the world needs them too - why did they dress me in a ditch-digger's uniform, with low wattage wet-ware to perform a sub-routine? there's no good answer to that, i know
yay, i'm going to sleep soon, so, fuck everything - time to bug out - dream some dreams at least, forget what day it is, what house i live in - forget it the old-fashioned way which is also newfangled, a way that uses the brain in its natural state, or whatever passes for that these days, a simulacrumalgamockup at least, with sarcastic inflection and a heterogeneous heart
abandon ship, all y'all, there's a fire in the theatre, join me in action, but stay out of my lifeboat, or here, have my lifeboat, i'll just jump into the pacific and be passively jostled by ocean currents for an as yet to be determined period
shake like i got insulin shock, a theory which is not a model and based on glass-eyed observation and biofeedback through a gray buffer of electron imaging magnified to the pico scale - the algebra of sex is something i would sooner leave to the ologists, maybe even theologists, and sophists can persuade if you got enough spring in your step to pursue your blue suede shoes to the healthy and spiritually correct jacuzzi suite stiletto lodge after a linner of fluoride pies
yeah, the expert truck can keep on trucking, truckers don't honk too often, they know how to drive, they're okay by me, i like them better than cab drivers, although most cabbies are okay, i guess, yeah, i'll take my eyes off the quiet ones and watch the meter til i realize it doesn't matter, a watched meter will change just as fast as an unobserved one, so you're only cheating yourself out of a scenic survey of the jaunt across town
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